The Darkest of Arts
by Ricky Roo
Summary: What gave birth to the Dark Arts? Someone knew. The Darkest of Arts hadn't been practiced in centuries, until now. With the promise of unlimited power and immortality, the loyal Death Eaters vow to use this magic to ensure their Master returns with infinite abilities. Discovering and deciding who will inherit this power may just be left to Severus Snape.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One – Halloween Night

"Dammit!"

In his frustration, Severus Snape struck the inside of his thigh and looked once more at the jagged tear in his pants. Blood was oozing from the gash beneath the shreds of black cloth. He'd spent the better half of the last hour turning over his own potions in search of a remedy capable of putting an end to the throbbing pain.

"Bloody mut," he cursed under his breath as tore away yet another soaking bandage, "ought to choke on its own noxious saliva."

_If it hadn't been for that dunderhead Quirrell_, Snape thought to himself._ If not for that mindless sap_… His mind went on, imagining all of the sadistic punishments he could have done with.

Snape never would have gone near that cursed, three-headed dog had it not been for Professor Quirrell and his narcissistic fantasies. Snape had only _that_ fool to blame for his misfortune. A rare toxin in the dog's saliva kept Snape in agony and the wound from healing. Had the gash been any deeper, he might have bled to death already.

Instead of sitting alone in his quarters trying to stop the bleeding, he could be sitting around a warm fire enjoying a special vintage with the rest of the Hogwarts professors. He hated the pathetic small talk that accompanied social gatherings, but at least his noted presence impressed the school's Headmaster.

At least _his_ conversations were intriguing and intellectual. Snape could tolerate Dumbledore for hours and often enjoyed his speeches and ramblings. Right now, instead of mopping his own sweat and blood, Snape would have preferred being with the others, holding a drink in his hand and listening to Dumbledore ramble on about the time he'd discovered something astonishing.

But no, he had to sit here in pain, bleeding and wondering what in the world that useless twit thought he was doing. What made Quirrell think he could just slip under everyone's nose and make it all the way to the Stone? It was naïve of him to think it would be that simple. Had Snape been able to focus on more than just his pain, he may have been able to figure it out.

Whatever Quirrell's foolish plan was, Snape was certain that even he knew the troll and the incident in the girls' bathroom had stirred up enough suspicion for one evening. Quirrell would have to be completely mad to try anything so foolish again tonight – especially now that he knew Snape and the rest of the professors had become particularly vigilant since the Halloween feast. They would all be on their toes with their wands at the ready. However, as wary as they all were, none of the professors would be keeping as close an eye on Quirrell as Snape would be from now on. After heading him off at the trap door, Snape promised himself he'd never trust Quirrell again.

_Knock, knock, knock!_

Snape pulled his cloak over his leg and stood.

"Come in," he said.

The door creaked as it slowly swung open. Snape looked down as the long, dark shadow of an elderly wizard appeared on the stone floor before him. When he looked up, Snape nodded to welcome the Headmaster into his quarters.

"All right there, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, standing several feet before Snape with his hands folded together in front of him. "Minerva tells me you were able to find the mountain troll."

Snape nodded. "Argus and Hagrid had the troll removed from the grounds immediately; I don't anticipate any further troubles this evening."

"Nor I," the Headmaster agreed. "Are you going to rejoin us this evening?"

"No," he answered as he tried his best to stand tall. "The excitement has left me quite… exhausted. I will be spending the rest of the evening in my quarters, alone."

"As you wish," Dumbledore said and curved his lips up into a hint of a smile. "Perhaps you should first allow me to have Madam Pomfrey check in on you."

"That will not be necessary," Snape assured. Although, even if the beads of perspiration on his brow didn't give him away, Snape was sure the Headmaster could see right through his façade.

Dumbledore respectfully nodded and began to pace backwards towards the door. "Very well, my friend," he said before turning around. "But I will have you know, it can be a bit of a hat trick relieving one of Fluffy's… inflictions." The Headmaster looked over his shoulder and winked, knowingly. "Good night, Severus."

After sitting back down on his leather wingchair, Snape threw his cloak back and looked once more at what that crazed dog had done to him.

"Fluffy," Snape muttered callously and shook his head in disapproval.

Snape knew the Headmaster was right and that it was foolish to try and deceive him. As much as he preferred to concoct his own remedies, this one was not on hand. A proper brew would take a fortnight. His only option now was to see the nurse.

"Blast!"

Admitting his defeat, Snape grabbed the door handle and swung it open. This was the first time he'd gone to the Hospital Wing on his own accord. The damage a journey to the Hospital Wing did to his pride perhaps challenged the damage done to his leg.

With the pain flaring after every step, the walk up to the Hospital Wing seemed excruciatingly long. Twice he came across school prefects along the way. Whether it was because he was feeling particularly miserable, or because he was simply miserable, Snape scolded each of them for not keeping to their dormitories. After the excitement of the evening, Snape had assumed _all_ students were confined to their Houses, including prefects.

The corridors were much quieter after his intimidating voice cleared the path. To his luck, the final corridor leading to the Hospital Wing was free of anyone on guard. Snape grunted and forced himself to take long strides the rest of the way. He could see a sliver of light shining through a tiny crack between the doors.

Snape pushed the door open and quietly stepped inside. The room was well lit and felt much warmer than the rest of the castle. Two students lay sleeping and to the right a single bed had its curtains pulled all the way around it. On the far side of the Hospital Wing Snape saw a nurse carrying a pile of folded blankets over to the cupboard.

She was younger than the other nurses he'd come to recognize. Perhaps too young to even be a Head Nurse. She wasn't wearing the traditional nurse's gown, but a gown that was probably her own. It was ivory, fitting and decorated with white embroidery across the bodice.

Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight. Nor were any of the other nurses for that matter. Assuming that this young woman was the Head Nurse for the night, Snape walked towards her with deliberate stealth.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could even manage a whisper, she turned to greet her visitor. She smiled and then returned her attention to the cupboard. "Good evening, Professor," she said. Her voice was so melodic and so enchanting, Snape wondered if he had ever heard such a sweet sound before.

"I beg your pardon, Miss," Snape whispered after clearing his throat. "Are you watching over the Hospital Wing?"

The young nurse put the last of the blankets up into the cupboard before approaching him. The heels of her shoes echoed softly as she walked up to the professor, stopping just an arm's reach in front of him. The locket she wore around her neck caught Snape's attention as its bejewelled crest sparkled in the flickering light.

Her lips spread into a smile and she gave him a subtle, confirming nod.

Far more stunning than her locket was the colour of her eyes. They were absolutely beautiful and gave her already enchanting appearance an elegant touch. For a moment, Snape became so entranced by the magnificence of her vibrant, emerald green eyes he'd forgotten why he came to the Hospital Wing. Years had passed since he'd last found himself at the mercy of a stranger's beauty.

The smooth look of her pale, ivory skin and the subtle hint of feminine curves hidden beneath her gown were enticing, but it was her eyes that held him captive. This nurse was much more than just a beautiful stranger.

"Your eyes," he began. "Seem so familiar. Have we met before?" Knowing he couldn't possibly forget such an intriguing woman, Snape knew for certain that they had not.

"No," she said as she gently shook her head. "We haven't. My name is Jessica. How can I help you?" she asked in a soft, angelic voice.

Snape brushed the hair dangling in his face and cast a harsh glare full of scrutiny as if doubting her ability to heal him. "It's nothing, really. I only require a potion for a Cerberus infection. Cerberus Potion," he clarified. "Madam Pomfrey should have a vial in her private stores."

Jessica returned an equally scrutinizing eye and raised a curious brow. "I see," she said. "You can sit down on the bed and show me this… infection." She pointed to the hospital bed nearest and watched as Snape hesitated to go near it. "Go on," she encouraged in a particularly demanding voice.

"That won't be necessary," he said and pulled his cloak away from his wounded leg for a brief moment. "I can treat it myself if you'd just give me the potion."

Jessica looked at the gash beyond his shredded trousers and covered her mouth. "Good god, Professor!" she cried softly. "Don't tell me that's what you call _nothing_! Go on and lie down." Jessica gave Snape's arm a gentle push towards the bed and hurried over to Madam Pomfrey's supply closet. Snape remained standing, keeping all of his weight on his good leg.

Jessica wheeled a small trolley over to the hospital bed. She saw that the professor was reluctant to take a seat and cleared her throat, hoping the gesture was enough to establish her authority.

"Please lay down Professor, this won't take long," she instructed and took a cloth from the trolley.

Snape crossed his arms over his chest and remained standing. "I am not here to be pampered. If you would just give me something now, I will be on my way."

"You're still bleeding!" she observed. "I'm going to have to take a closer look before I can treat it. Now please, sit down and let me make sure you haven't lost too much blood."

"I can manage it myself," Snape told her firmly. "I'm the Potion's Master; I concocted the potion myself last summer! I _just_ need it and I'll be on my way. Is that too much to ask?"

The enchanting twinkle in her eye was gone and Snape became suddenly aware that he was not going to get his way on this nurse's watch. Perhaps he'd been just a bit too stubborn.

"I haven't got access to the Madam's private stores, all right. I take responsibility for everyone who walks through that door in my own fashion," she said while pointing at the entrance to the Hospital Wing. "I can tell you right now Professor, that isn't just a scratch on your leg. The infection will only get worse if I don't treat it. Now, lie down on the bed." Her tone had changed. She no longer bared the sweet, enchanting voice that had bewitched him a moment ago.

Snape shifted sideways and reluctantly sat down on the edge of the bed, leaving his leg in front of the nurse. Jessica pulled a small cushioned stool up to the bed and sat down next to the trolley. "Put your leg up here," she instructed and pressed her hand into the mattress where she wanted him to put his foot.

Snape lifted his leg as she had requested and pressed the heel of his palm into the bed to support himself. He watched the nurse closely as she began to move the shreds of his pants out of the way. She took each side of the tear in her hands and ripped it open even wider.

"Hey!" Snape hollered. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"Shh!" she hushed. "Relax Professor, you're not going to need these anymore," the nurse observed and continued to rip his trousers.

"You could have bloody well asked me first," Snape growled.

"My apologies, Professor," she said half-heartedly. "Would you rather take your pants off for me?"

Her suggestion forced a short, erotic image to flash through his mind, but that fantasy dissipated very quickly. Her expression was contorted in disapproval as if she knew exactly what sort of visions he'd imagined. As the Potions Master was overcome with shame, Jessica's expression softened.

"That's what I thought," she said with the sure tone of satisfaction. "So what sort of silly Halloween tommyrot got you into this mess?" Jessica asked as she began to soak another plain while cloth in a clear solution.

"It was an accident," Snape replied dryly. "It wasn't '_tommyrot'_ as you so eloquently put it."

"There's no need to get defensive Professor, it was just a question," she assured him. "If it's none of my business you just have to say so. It's my job to know what kind of wound I'm dealing with."

"It is a deep wound and it hurts!" Snape described as bluntly as he could.

"Why thank you for pointing out the bloody obvious," she muttered sarcastically just before hastily slapping a cloth soaked in alcohol over the cut.

Snape jumped to his feet and howled. The alcohol stung and the burning sensations flared all the way up his leg. "Ahh! What in the -!"

"Hush, Professor," she lectured. She rose as well and touched a hand to Snape's chest as if to calm him. "The alcohol stings because it's doing its job. Now will you please hold still and let me finish mine?"

"Well take it easy!"

"Will you relax? I'm not trying to hurt you," she said in a stern tone. "I am very good at what I do. Now will you let me help you Professor Snape, or would you just like to keep on bleeding?"

He halted when he heard her speak his name and turned his head to look her in the eye. He wasn't sure why, but he couldn't help but feel slightly delighted to hear the sound of his name float from her tongue.

Together, they returned to their seats. "How do you know who I am?" he finally asked in a calm voice.

Jessica took a vial from the trolley and placed two drops on Snape's gash. She managed a huff of laughter under her breath. "You told me you're the Potion's Master," she reminded. "I've met a number of your students. They've all told me plenty about the infamous Potions Master all cloaked in black. Your name comes up quite often when I ask the children how they've manage to burn their skin with nameless concoctions or sprout abnormal features."

"How charming," Snape muttered with an unmistakable tone of sarcasm. "I will be sure to emphasize next term that my classes are not for the careless and stupid."

"They're not careless and they certainly aren't stupid," she justified. "They're only children and they don't have the experience you have. Part of your job is taking responsibility for their safety and training them to take proper care. Is it not?"

"Who the hell are you to tell me what my responsibilities are?" Snape asked uncouthly as he watched her bandage his leg.

Jessica didn't answer him. Instead she tied the knot around the end of his bandage especially tight and watched Snape turn his head away and mutter a bit of blaspheme from the corner of his mouth at the sudden, unnecessary pain.

"Damn it all, girl!" Snape muttered and ground his teeth at the pain. "Was that _really_ necessary?"

"Yes! You're going to need stitches," she told him. "This bandage will hold long enough for me to prepare."

"_Stitches_?" Snape repeated as if he had never heard of the concept before. "You have got to be joking! What sort of nurse are you?" he asked.

She turned away from him for a moment and sighed. "I'm not like you," she said quietly. "My ways are a lot different from yours."

"You're not a Muggle," Snape assumed. "You _can't_ be."

"I'm a qualified nurse, and that's all that matters," she confirmed. "I don't use any magical treatments if that's what you were expecting. And as your wound is not life threatening, if you want it done that way you're going to have to wait until morning when the Madam is available."

Snape shook his head as he tried to make sense of this beautiful stranger. "You _are_ a Muggle," he said, changing his mind. "Unbelievable! What in carnations are you doing here?"

Again, she turned her head away from him and sighed quietly. "I'm not," she assured. "It's complicated, and I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Fair enough," Snape agreed. "I will have the Madam see me first thing in the morning."

"Very well," the nurse said with a nod. "I'll help you to the door."

Snape pressed his hands into the mattress and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. Jessica slipped her hand around his waist and helped him to his feet. Normally Snape would have refused help, but it was either the succulent smell of her hair or the warmth of her hands on his body that possessed him to keep his mouth shut. In turn, Snape put an arm around Jessica's shoulder until he found his balance.

"You're going to have to take it easy for the rest of the evening," she told him. "I suggest you get as much sleep as you can tonight, or by morning your leg will feel like a stick of wood."

"We shall see about that," Snape muttered. "I have plenty of _responsibilities_ to carry out tomorrow," he said in an ironic tone.

"The choice is yours," she decided. "Just be forewarned that running a marathon won't do the healing any good. You'll be much better off if you just take the day off and relax."

"As I have already told you, there are things I must do tomorrow," Snape said coldly.

"I'm sure you can pass your responsibilities on to someone else for a day. It won't make you any less of a man to admit you need to some time to make good," she struck back.

Snape halted and looked at her. His head tilted slightly and his brow twisted in bewilderment. While glowering at her through the narrow slits of his black eyes, Snape began shaking his head. "You've got quite the cheek on you," he told her. "Are you like this with all of your patients?"

The young nurse began shaking her head. "No," she said calmly, "only the ones who deserve it." She looked up at Snape and saw an array of emotions flash through his eyes.

Choosing to ignore her comment, Snape took a couple more steps towards the door and then stopped again. He looked curiously at her and let out a breath of air before he spoke. "Who are you, Jessica?" he asked with genuine interest.

She kept her hand tucked firmly under his arm and looked up at him, knowing just how curious he was to know the truth. "Just Jessica, the precarious nurse," she answered courteously. "That's all you need to know… for now."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two – Friendly Fire

The second dawn of November came with a crisp, cool breeze very much like the first dawn. The chill of the night left a blanket of white frost that glistened in the early sunlight. A vast, thick fog hovered over the Black Lake making it impossible to see anything beyond the shore. In the opposite direction, the birds of the Dark Forest could be heard singing their morning songs to one another as they welcomed the new day.

Standing at the edge of his balcony appreciating the beautiful landscape, Albus Dumbledore took a deep breath of the fresh morning air and closed his eyes as he sipped the last of his hot, lemon tea. When he set the empty teacup back on its matching saucer, he heard his office door open and close again.

The Headmaster brought his teacup and saucer back inside and placed it on his desk as he welcomed his visitor. "Jessica! Good morning, my lovely dear," he greeted and held his arms out to her.

Jessica smiled back at him and stepped into his embrace. "Good morning," she said before kissing his cheek and giving him a hug.

"How are you, darling?" he asked and stepped back to appreciate her beauty. She was dressed in an elegant, slender gown with long sleeves and a flattering décolletage. It was midnight blue with gold, cosmic trimming that matched the golden barrette in her hair. Her locket was secure around her neck and sparkled in the sunlight spilling in through the window.

"I'm quite well," she answered. "I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

"Heavens no," Dumbledore said and batted his hand to the side. "Come have a seat. I was just having a cup of tea before going to breakfast. Have you eaten already?"

"Yes, I have." Jessica sat down on the sofa opposite him and soothingly rubbed her hands up and down her arms after a gust of cold air came sweeping through the open doors leading to the balcony. "The children up in the Hospital Wing are having their breakfast now. I haven't seen you for a couple of days, so Madam Pomfrey said I could slip away and speak to you for a moment while they eat."

"Why how thoughtful of you," he said with a smile. "Are you still enjoying your work with Poppy?" He saw Jessica trying to rub some warmth into her arms and pointed his wand at the doors to close them. He spun his wand around to face the hearth and ignited a roaring fire with only a simple wave. The room was warmed almost instantly.

"Yes I am," Jessica answered. "It keeps me busy, and the children like to ask lots of questions. Except for the Muggle-born students, a number of them are quite unfamiliar with the practice I use."

"That they are," he agreed. "But even the children from wizarding families could stand to benefit from your knowledge." He began to walk over to his desk but stopped and looked back at her. "I hope none of them have been reluctant to accept your assistance."

Jessica shook her head and let out a sigh. "No," she said. "At least none of the students have. I had one particularly averse patient the other night. After constantly bickering and hollering, he decided he'd be better off spending the night in bleeding agony than he would letting me stitch him up."

Dumbledore chuckled softly and began to stroke the end of his long, white beard between his finger and thumb. "Well, I'm glad Severus at least made the effort. It wasn't an easy decision for him to make, I'm sure. Severus can be especially stubborn at times."

"How did you know it was Professor Snape who came?" Jessica asked.

Dumbledore showed Jessica a kind-hearted smile. "I know many things," he replied.

"You sent him to the Hospital Wing that night, knowing I was there all alone. Didn't you?" Her words were laced with a touch of spite.

A childish smile played on the Headmaster's lips.

"Of course you did." Jessica playfully rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Stubborn doesn't begin to describe him," she mumbled under her breath.

The Headmaster, having heard perfectly, tried to keep from chuckling. "Yes, well. There are two sides to Professor Snape," he said and adjusted his crescent shaped glasses.

With the cynical shrug of her brow, Jessica leaned back into the deep seat of the sofa. "You must know all about the little accident he'd gotten himself into. What in the world did that to him?" she asked. "He was very reluctant to share anything with me."

Dumbledore chuckled again and gently bounced his foot. "I do know many things," he said again, "but what happened to him that night is a tale he needn't share with me. However, I'm quite certain he'll share it with you… when the time is right."

"That's likely," Jessica concluded aloud. She received a quick, stern look from the Headmaster and quickly remembered that he was not one to be argued with. "Well, whatever it was, I hope it taught him a good lesson."

"Perhaps," was all Dumbledore said.

Jessica crossed her arms and breathed a heavy sigh. "I could sense something was very wrong when he arrived at the Hospital. He was genuinely angry, and not just because I tore his pants to shreds." Jessica absentmindedly began twirling the pendant of her locket between her fingers.

Dumbledore quietly laughed again and shook his head. "Jessica my dear, behind all that intimidation and apprehension lies a truly magnificent man. You'll just have to be patient in the search for that side of him."

"What makes you think I desire to do such a thing?" Jessica asked.

"Dearest, your life has changed so significantly," Dumbledore began. He stopped for a moment when he saw Jessica's sullen gaze fall to the floor as she remembered how different things were before she came to Hogwarts only a few weeks earlier. His heart began to ache once more when he saw how his reminder stirred up some unpleasant memories. "Managing significant change is something Severus knows a lot about," he continued slowly in a comforting voice full of love and warmth. "And until it's safe for you to return to London, Hogwarts is your home. Thus, you should do your best to make some friends among my staff - unless you fancy the idea of spending all of your time chatting with Madam Pomfrey and myself."

Jessica nodded in agreement but then rolled her eyes at the thought of having to talk to the Potions Master again. "He seems so rebellious and cruel," Jessica said aloud. "Do you know that he called his students stupid and careless last night? With some of them in beds next to him, nonetheless!"

"Jessica darling, Severus may be a quick-tempered man, but he would readily give his life to save any one of his students. He proved that the other night when he opted to take on the mountain troll."

Regardless of how difficult it was to imagine such things as that, Jessica always found herself trusting Dumbledore's judgement. After all, Professor Snape did put himself at a greater risk on Halloween night than anyone realized.

"Well my dear," Dumbledore began and stood up from his chair. "It's best I be going. We've got a busy day to look forward to."

Jessica stood up after him and began walking with him to the door. "The Quidditch game?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered with a nod. "You haven't seen a match before. How would you like to accompany me to the pitch this morning?"

Jessica would have liked to see a match, but she knew that it would have to wait until another day. "I'd like to," she admitted, "but I told the Madam I would be available in the Hospital Wing this morning. She said that Quidditch days are the days she finds herself shorthanded."

"Very well then," Dumbledore said before letting Jessica out of his office. "But if you don't find someone to bring you to the next match, I would very much like the honour."

"All right," Jessica agreed. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Good," Dumbledore said and closed his office door behind him. "Now go on dearest and get all of that practice you've been pining for."

Jessica smiled and leaned over to give him another hug. "All right," she said. "Thank you, Uncle Albus."

"You're welcome, Jessica. You're very welcome."

The Great Hall had surely seen larger crowds than it had that morning, but whether or not it had played host to a louder and wilder crowd was questionable. Only the first Quidditch game of the year could claim bragging rights for encouraging so many students to get out of bed this early on a weekend.

Dumbledore smiled at each of the students as he slowly made his way up to the head table next to Minerva McGonagall. He ate his breakfast in peace and made pleasant small talk with the Transfigurations professor. When she cleared her plate, Professor McGonagall politely excused herself from the table and made way for her quarters before going out to the Quidditch field.

The Headmaster took a few more minutes to finish his scrambled eggs before leaving the Great Hall. On his way out he wished some of the Quidditch players good luck and gave young Harry Potter an extra wink when he passed the rookie Seeker's table.

Just outside of the Great Hall, Dumbledore saw Professor Snape approaching. He still walked with a limp, no doubt entirely due to his own stubbornness and procrastination. The professor smiled respectfully and nodded as he greeted the Headmaster.

"Good morning, Sir."

"Good morning, Severus." Dumbledore returned the smile and held his hand out to stop Snape from going into the Great Hall just yet. "I was really quite pleased to hear that you've had a chance to meet my lovely grandniece," he said.

Snape's eyebrows arched curiously. "Your grand… grandniece?"

"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed with a gentle nod. "Jessica tells me you stopped by the Hospital Wing the other night. I hope everything went all right."

For a moment, Snape forgot to keep breathing. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. The relation would explain why Jessica was at Hogwarts, but it certainly didn't explain why she lacked the knowledge of magic.

"The nurse, Jessica. _She_ is your grandniece?" Snape questioned, still blown away by how something so unbelievable could be so.

"Yes. Well, great-great grandniece," Dumbledore said and nodded once more. "She's the grand-daughter of my brother's grand-daughter, Guinevere. Heaven rest her soul."

Snape knew very well who Guinevere De Marquis was, and she certainly wasn't a Muggle. Guinevere was a very well-known witch in her time, and she was half Veela, which could have explained Jessica's charm and beauty, and perhaps her irascibility. Guinevere was a legend. Of course, what witch or wizard who was or was once a Dumbledore wasn't a legend?

Jessica. That's who.

"Forgive me for being blunt, Sir," Snape began when he saw that the Headmaster was giving him a curious look. "Jessica has no magical talent, does she?"

"Not in the way you want to believe," Dumbledore assured immediately.

"She is a nurse, but by Muggle standards," Snape recalled. "Her ways of treatment are not like ours. If she is of your descent, then for what reason has she been taught their ways?"

Dumbledore slowly put his hand over Snape's arm and leaned a little bit closer to him. "For sufficient reasons," he said. "Perhaps it would be best for Jessica to enlighten you herself."

It was just as Madam Pomfrey had promised. The end of the Quidditch match brought a few more patients to the Hospital Wing. Jessica spent a couple of hours assessing each student and then preparing them for the magical works of Madam Pomfrey. By the end of it all, Jessica was exhausted. She decided to go for a walk around the castle and set her mind at ease while she familiarized herself with a few more corners of Hogwarts.

Although she had no idea where the corridors would take her, Jessica leisurely made her way through them, admiring the assortment of decorations and furnishings that appeared around every corner. Knights in armour bowed and saluted her as she passed by, and while ascending a spiral staircase, she was greeted by a jolly voice that came from nowhere. Or, so she thought.

Jessica jumped and looked over her shoulder where she thought she heard the voice coming from. Although Jessica saw no one in front or behind her, the appearance of an old woman in a painting caught her eye. She was standing in a field of flowers waving at Jessica.

"Good afternoon, my lady," the woman in the painting greeted again.

"Gracious," Jessica whispered to herself and almost couldn't believe she was waving back at a painting. She had seen several of the characters in the paintings move, but none had ever spoken before.

On closer inspection, Jessica noticed that a number of the paintings around her were speaking to each other! In one picture there was a man riding on horseback, and in another a young boy was tossing a stick to his pet dog in the neighbouring portrait. Jessica smiled at the enthralment of it all and then courteously continued on her way.

The chatter from all of the paintings slowly began to fade as Jessica made her way down another corridor. It was almost empty except for a narrow passage leading to another spiral staircase. It was poorly lit, but curiosity lured Jessica in its direction.

The railing felt cold. Jessica's entire body soon felt the cold when she neared the bottom of the staircase. The heels of her shoes echoed louder and louder as she descended.

Her ongoing fascination with the castle lasted only until she reached the bottom step. The dungeons were cold, dark and empty. Nothing about its gloomy, dank corridors looked inviting. Jessica took one look around and then quickly decided to turn around and go back up to where it was less unsettling.

She took one step and then jumped at the sound of a loud slam. It echoed throughout the corridor like thunder before dissipating. Jessica stepped off of the staircase and peaked down the way. She didn't see anyone or anything. Not even a painting or a suit of armour.

Footsteps. Now she could hear heavy footsteps heading her way. They were quiet at first but grew louder with every step.

"Hello?" Jessica called and walked a bit further down the corridor. She made her way over to where she thought the footsteps were coming from and then came to the opening of another corridor. Small torches hanging from both walls erupted into flame and lit the path. Jessica could see all the way to the end but still couldn't see where the footsteps were coming from.

Perhaps it was just another enchantment. By now Jessica knew that Hogwarts was just the place where nothing was ever what it seemed. The footsteps very well could have been a charm or sounding from the floor above or below her. After all, the only person she could imagine who would want to come down here was that Snape character.

Jessica began to turn around to go back upstairs but screamed as she ran into a solid shroud of black. She nearly plummeted to the floor before a pair of arms wrapped tight around her waist and held her steady.

"Jessica?" she heard a familiar voice say.

Jessica clutched the front of his overcoat in her hands and pulled herself up onto her feet. Once she gained her balance, Jessica looked up knowing she'd see Professor Snape in front of her. "Oh my goodness," she managed to say as she felt a surge of dizziness sweep over her. "_HOW_ did you do that?"

With newfound respect for her, Snape immediately released the Headmaster's grandniece and pried his clothing from her hands. He took one step back and slanted his head gently to one side. "Jessica, what in Merlin's name do you think you are doing down here?" he asked her.

"It's a pleasure to see you too, Professor," Jessica said with a faux curtsy.

"You are a long ways away from the Hospital Wing," Snape told her.

"Yes, I am," she agreed. "And you are a long ways from the chemistry lab," Jessica retorted.

Snape gave his eyes a roll. "Actually, the _Potion's_ classroom is just there," he said, pointing an eye down the corridor.

"You don't say." Jessica pulled her dress straight and adjusted her long sleeves after rubbing some warmth into her arms.

"You're not wearing a cloak," Snape pointed out.

"Such a perceptive detective you are, Professor," Jessica teased and refrained from showing any sign of baring a chill.

Although her comment didn't amuse him, Snape decided to let it slide and moved on with his investigation. "Are you lost?" he asked uncaringly.

"No. I can find my way back." Jessica felt quite confident that she did know the way back to the Hospital Wing from where she was standing. She pushed some loose strands of hair out of her face and casually looked Snape over from head to toe. In his overcoat she spotted a large hole complete with a charred rim and singed threads. "What happened to you?" she asked and picked up the corner of his wool overcoat to take a closer look at the scorched material.

Snape immediately pulled the overcoat out of Jessica's hands and swept it behind him. "It is none of your concern," he said. "That's what it is."

"Well excuse me, Professor Snappy," Jessica said.

"Do not mock my name," Snape ordered, each one of his words trickling with disapproval. "I asked you what you are doing down here. You should not be wandering about in this part of the castle. This area belongs to Slytherin, my domain."

"Wow," Jessica said softly. "It certainly suits you," she added afterward and scattily wrapped her hands around her arms to keep warm.

Snape resented the sarcasm and glared harshly at her for it. "As much as you may think otherwise, your wittiness does not amuse me." He stepped around Jessica and proceeded down the corridor. "I am going to my quarters. Be on your way."

"Gladly," Jessica said and turned around to head back to the spiral staircase. She stopped abruptly and felt a cold shiver race up her spine. "Hey!" she exclaimed and reached her hand out to touch the wall where she could have sworn the staircase had been only moments ago. "The stairs, they're gone!"

Snape merely looked back at her over his shoulder as he continued to walk. "Now who's the perceptive detective?"

Jessica opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the right words to say in time. She watched him walk away and felt the distinct impression he did not intent to help her.

"Professor, wait," she found herself shouting after him. Snape didn't slow down or even look back. "Stop!" she called and began chasing after him.

Snape looked back to see her running towards him and finally stopped. "Is there a problem?" he asked. "As I recall, you said you could find your way back."

Jessica finally caught up to Snape. "Yes well, that was before my way back suddenly disappeared. How can I get back to the Hospital Wing?"

Snape looked back at the solid wall where the staircase once was. He pointed in that direction and then looked back at Jessica. A wicked smile spread across his face. "The same way you came," he said and continued heading towards his quarters. "Tap the wall with your wand three times."

"I've no use for a wand," Jessica told him. "I've never held one before in my life."

"Then you will just have to wait until the staircase reappears." The corners of his lips pulled into a snarling smile.

"How long will that take?" Jessica asked and put a skip in her step to keep up with the professor.

"Minutes. Hours, perhaps," Snape told her. "I will be on my way back when I am ready for lunch. If you're still there, I'll escort you then."

"No!" she quickly objected.

Snape stopped at looked curiously at Jessica, not sure if he should expect her face to transform into a cruel-beaked bird head like Veela were known to do when angry. Moments passed and Snape saw no sign of transformation in Jessica's heated expression. With nothing to fear, Snape carried on.

"You can show me another way, or you'll have to put up with me until you go for lunch," Jessica said and walked at his side down the dark corridor. "You can tell me all about that silly little stunt you pulled on Halloween night, or perhaps how you managed to burn your clothes."

Snape chuckled at her and kept his eyes focused straight ahead of him as he walked. "Right now Jessica, you are the last person I'd care to spend my afternoon with."

Jessica stopped and looked curiously at Snape. To her surprise, he stopped as well and turned to look at her. She scowled at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "Why?" she questioned.

Snape took two long, powerful struts towards Jessica and looked down at her with the darkest pair of eyes she had ever seen. "Why?" he repeated. "Because I flat out _do not_ like you," he said, although he wasn't quite sure if that was really true. "You are annoying," he continued, "you're arrogant, sarcastic, and quite meddlesome. And on top of that, you're nothing but a spoiled little girl whose only protection from ridicule is the bloodline she comes from. If you think I am going to bow down at your feet just because of who you are, you are quite mistaken. The Headmaster is accomplished, admirable and humble; nothing like you. I see no resemblance. I wonder, are your parents even proud of the girl they have raised?"

He stopped when he saw her eyes beginning to tear. Jessica blinked slowly and then turned her gaze away from him. "I _know_ you don't mean all those things," Jessica assured. "You pride yourself on bringing other down, don't you? You think you can belittle anyone you please, and you have – for years! Not many can, I'm sure, but I can see right through you. Your heart is cold and your tongue is colder. And that chill in your soul is what makes you the epitome of abysmal, Professor Snape."

There was a long pause and then Jessica spun around and began walking away.

Snape watched as Jessica threw her arms up in defeat. "Why did I even bother?" Snape heard her ask as she went to look for another way out of the repulsive Slytherin territory.

Snape watched her go and then started to think about what he had just said to her… to his Headmaster's grandniece. What would Dumbledore say if he found out his trustworthy Potions Master had dished out such cruel words to Jessica and then just left her alone and lost in the dungeons?

_Damn it all._

After all the things Dumbledore had done for him in the past, and after all the times he had bent over backwards for him, this is how Snape repaid him. By making his beloved grandniece sit alone, probably even frightened, and lost in the depths of the cold, dark corner of Slytherin.

"Jessica," Snape called out warmly after envisioning the look Dumbledore would have on his face if he had witnessed what just transpired between the pair.

Just as he previously ignored her, Jessica ignored Snape and his newfound willingness to negotiate with her. She walked with heavy steps, her arms folded across her chest. Snape knew that if she turned around now he'd probably see a stream of tears flowing down her cheeks.

Snape opened his mouth to call after her again but decided against it. The damage was already done and he didn't feel that an apology would do any good right now. So with a deep sigh, Snape pulled his wand out from his cloak and pointed it Jessica's way. He closed his eyes and turned his head as a bright yellow beam blasted out from the end of his wand and struck the wall where the stairs once were.

The staircase appeared, and without looking back at him, Jessica began climbing back up to a warmer, friendlier atmosphere.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three – The First Kiss

It wasn't easy for Snape to force Jessica out of his thoughts. It was as if an image of her innocent, blissful face had been tattooed to the back of his eyelids. Every time he closed his eyes he would see her in front of him baring the most inconsolable look he had ever seen. His harsh words had truly hurt her, partly because she didn't deserve the slander, and partly because she was only trying to be a friend to him. It was foolish for him to have blown her off so insensitively. Perhaps he would have taken pleasure in having her company for part of the day. At least then he wouldn't have been alone.

For the simple purpose of avoiding Dumbledore and his impeccable sense of the all-knowing, Snape remained down in the dungeons for the rest of the day. If truth be told, Snape was feeling unusually guilty for the way he had treated the Headmaster's grandniece. He had no intention of allowing Dumbledore the opportunity to confront him about the incident until after he'd had a chance to set it straight.

So instead of joining the rest of the professors for an appetizing meal in the Great Hall, Snape sat behind his desk in the Potions classroom trying to think of an appropriate way he could give Jessica the apology she deserved. It had been ages since Snape had apologized to anyone for anything and the task therefore came as a great challenge. It was just something he never felt was necessary before. His angry words were always in order… or at least he thought they were.

This time, however, Snape knew his words were inexcusable. Whatever had gotten into him back in the Slytherin corridor, Snape knew he had to make up for it. He couldn't let Jessica go on thinking he believed all of those things about her.

Sure she was sarcastic, but her puns were never meant to offend him. She was an unusually clever woman and Snape knew it. She was perhaps one of the most intriguing young women he had met in a long time, and not to mention the most attractive one, too. Snape remembered how enthralled he was when he first laid eyes on her. His mind was blown away and he felt his jaw nearly fall to the floor. And when he saw her smile and speak those first words to him, he could have sworn he felt himself beginning to levitate. Jessica was only an eighth Veela, but he was sure even a full-blooded Veela would struggle to enchant him as effortlessly as Jessica had.

For the first time that evening, Snape found himself wanting to see that image of Jessica when he closed his eyes. With a long sigh, he leisurely fell back into his leather chair before closing his eyes.

Immediately he could see Jessica, and sure enough, she donned the despairing look he last saw before driving her away. Even _his_ stone heart shattered at the image. Snape would have done anything to turn that frown back into a smile. He knew a fair amount of magic that could do it, but it would not be the same. As much as he hated to admit it, Snape enjoyed seeing her smile. Jessica had a beautiful smile to match a beautiful face. Everything about her was perfect, right down to the fine dimples in her cheeks.

Somewhere in the middle of a dream, Snape imagined all of the things he could have said to Jessica back in the corridor. Instead of being the _epitome of abysmal _as she so called him, he could have been the gentleman he scarcely opted to be. He could have shown Jessica the way back to the Hospital Wing, or he could have invited her to his quarters for a taste of his finest vintage. They could have shared a story or two about the past that brought her to Hogwarts, as the Headmaster had subtly suggested.

Besides Dumbledore, there wasn't a single soul living at Hogwarts whose existence had ever intrigued Snape. Now Jessica's existence had Snape curiously wanting to know everything about her. Where had she come from? She wasn't a Muggle, but the heir of one of the greatest wizarding family in the history of wizards. An heir who knew no magic, curiously enough.

And why was she so beautiful? Part Veela or not, those emerald eyes were something else entirely. Not to mention, her hair was almost black, which was completely uncharacteristic of the Veela race. Jessica was something else.

Something so beautiful, it was unnaturally so.

Maybe if he had been kind, or at least tolerable, Jessica would have given him an opportunity to get a closer look at those rare, emerald eyes or permission to touch that soft, ivory skin. There was no fooling; he knew he wanted to feel whether or not her skin was as soft and smooth as it looked. He'd give his wand if it meant he could have a single moment to hold her warm flesh against his. He'd pamper her face in his hands and smooth his lips across hers.

Although many found it hard to believe, Severus Snape was capable of becoming aroused just as any other living, breathing man was. He certainly didn't succumb to affection as easily or as often as others, but a few times in his lifetime was quite enough.

Jessica knew he had red, hot blood flowing through his veins. She'd seen it the first time they'd met. He had his share of masculine need, too. His desire to have a woman by his side or in his bed wasn't exactly a priority, but he was just as hot-blooded as any other man on the grounds of Hogwarts. Perhaps right now he was becoming even more hot-blooded than the rest. He had a fixed vision of himself with Jessica exploring the many fascinating destinations just one warm and passionate kiss could take them.

The image seemed so real it had his blood soaring through his veins at top speed. Every time he pictured Jessica's lips gliding over his own, Snape's body temperature soared. He could feel his body starting to sweat. The drips of perspiration tickled his skin as they trickled down his brow.

Snape imagined he could feel Jessica brushing her fingers along his brow and then gazing into his eyes with a look of pure desire. Her lips curved into a smile and she began to speak.

"_I want you, Severus_," she whispered to him as she pulled his body even closer to her own. "_Hold me… hold me closer_."

"I will," Snape spoke aloud.

Still unwilling to wake from his trace-like fantasy, Snape squeezed his eyes shut and continued to imagine making love to Jessica. The thought of touching her and kissing her was more intoxicating than he had ever imagined. Nothing Snape had ever imagined before felt this wonderful. It had been a long time since he'd last held a woman, and none of those women held a candle to Jessica.

The gentle touch of her fingers on his skin and the sweet nectar of her lips was nothing to be compared to the tainted intimacies of his past. The memories of all the other women were left behind along with the memories of his past life. They were all like that; just Death Eaters, or women who were only in love with the fact that he was a Death Eater. Since returning to Hogwarts as a professor, there had only been one, but even she proved to love the Death Eater more than the man.

Snape knew Jessica was more than that. She had to be. Her kiss was presumably too pure to be a simple feeling of lust. The thought of her nude flesh pressing against his in the most sensual embrace felt so right, Snape was certain she was meant to be his.

It all felt so real right up until the moment Snape felt a firm hand tap his shoulder. Snape awoke from the trance immediately and opened his eyes. All images of Jessica shattered and Snape realized it was all just a dream. He was still at his desk in the Potions classroom and Argus Filch was standing there beside him.

"Excuse me, Professor," the caretaker began, ignoring the stunned look on Snape's face. "The room's due for a cleaning."

Snape wiped the sweat from his brow and looked around the classroom. He saw the assembly of cleaning supplies behind Filch and then looked back at the caretaker. He nodded and stood. "Midnight already, is it?" Snape asked, knowing that was the time Filch arrived to clean the Potions classroom.

"Aye," Filch confirmed. "A bit after."

Snape nodded and politely left the classroom to go to bed. It was too late to do anything else. Jessica was probably already asleep. If Snape wanted to apologize to her, it would have to wait until morning.

The next morning Jessica was up bright and early again. She spent a couple of hours in the Hospital Wing looking after a couple of students until Madam Pomfrey arrived. They ate their breakfast together before Jessica left to do some more exploring of Hogwarts… far away from where her curiosity had taken her the day before. If Jessica never saw the dungeons of Slytherin again, it was all peaches and cream to her.

After walking through the gardens, Jessica found a bench and took a moment to sit and relax. She nestled her back up against the arm of the bench and lifted her feet up onto the opposite end. She took one long deep breath and closed her eyes. She sighed.

The birds were chirping, the breeze was blowing and the gentle flow of the fountain made for a completely perfect spot of tranquility. It was a bit lonely, but at the same time Jessica felt more at peace than she had in a long time.

Jessica knew her uncle was right in suggesting she try to make some friends among the staff. Although he was probably the closest to her in age, Severus Snape certainly wasn't going to be worth another attempt. He had already made it perfectly clear that she'd only be wasting her time. It may simply have been due to the fact that Snape had very little respect for Muggle practices, or perhaps it was just because she was the Headmaster's grandniece. Either way, Jessica wanted to believe Snape had no interest in befriending her.

Dumbledore may have been one of the most intellectual wizards of all time, but this time Jessica hoped he was wrong. He had to be! There was no magnificent man lying beneath that hideous shroud of black who called himself Severus Snape. She would have sensed it if there was.

Even if such a man did exist, it wasn't worth the time it would take to find the friendlier side of him. In fact, Jessica thought it was a waste of time just thinking about him. He wasn't worth a fraction of her thoughts. He was just a miserable man who lived a miserable life devoted to making everyone else feel like they should be miserable, too. What he said to her was just a routine act. Jessica had a way of knowing it was nothing to take personally. So why did she still feel so hurt and disappointed?

"Good morning, Jessica."

She practically jumped out of her skin and sat straight up after hearing her name. Jessica quickly spun around and saw him standing there just behind her. She placed her hand on her heart and felt it racing to make up for the beat it had missed. "Would you _stop_ doing that?"

It was Snape, and as usual, he was dressed in black from neck to toe. Jessica looked down at his overcoat and noticed that the hole he had burned into it yesterday was gone. Such a thing didn't surprise her though. She wouldn't even have been surprised to find out the pants he was wearing were the same ones she tore on Halloween night.

"What brings you out here?" Jessica finally asked. She watched Snape walk around to the other side of the bench and promptly removed her feet.

"You did," he replied just before sitting down next to her. He folded his arms over his chest and stretched his legs out in front of him. A couple of jet-black strands of hair fell from behind his ear and hid most of his face from her. Although he didn't look at her, Snape continued speaking to Jessica. "Madam Pomfrey told me I'd probably find you out here."

Jessica raised a callous brow. "That means you were at the Hospital Wing looking for me?" Jessica concluded.

"I was there," Snape assured, still refusing to look her in the eye.

"Why did you bother?" Jessica asked. "We've got nothing to say to one another."

Snape nodded in agreement before tucking his hair back behind his ear. He then looked her way. "You're wrong about that," he said. "I do need to speak to you."

"About what?" Jessica asked.

"About what happened yesterday." The look in Snape's eyes was cold and serious, but at the same time seemed remorseful. Jessica looked back at him and gave him a very curious look. For a few moments their gaze remained fixed. Snape made sure he had Jessica's full attention before he spoke again. "Some of the things I said to you were untrue and uncalled for." Although Jessica swiftly looked away, Snape's gaze rested on her eyes that were full of uncompromising enchantment.

"Only _some_ of the things?" Jessica repeated.

The array of emotions he saw flash across Jessica's face made him wonder if his apology had been accepted or if it just insulted her further. She wrapped her hands tight across her shoulders and blinked her eyes as if she were expecting a couple of tears to be there to blink away.

Snape nodded and slowly shifted his body further down the bench towards Jessica. The corner of his mouth turned up into a smile again. "Right," he told her. "I do find you annoying, and even you can't deny that you are sarcastic and meddlesome."

"I'm not angry with you because of the things you called me," Jessica said and finally looked his way. "I know I tend to be sarcastic at times, but I'm not arrogant and I'm not spoiled. I don't even know how you found out Albus is my uncle, but if ever I decided to mention it, it wouldn't be because I wanted to pull rank."

Snape nodded in agreement. "I know," he said. "I don't believe you are spoiled. I shouldn't have said anything of the sort." His eyes finally turned away from hers. Snape thought of all the things he still wanted to tell her but found himself lacking the courage to do so now that she was really here in front of him. He'd thought of everything he wanted to tell her earlier that morning, only now his mind was left blank.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" Jessica asked, knowing that he needed the encouragement to continue with his apology.

"No," Snape began. "I'd like to take back what I said about not liking you." His carefully planned words were spoken slowly. Although he couldn't quite look her in the eye, Jessica knew Snape was telling her the truth. He _did_ like her.

"You had no right to say those things about my family," Jessica continued, remembering that those were the words that had truly hurt her. "You don't know anything about my parents or how I was raised."

"No, I don't," Snape agreed and turned his head to look at her again. "But I'd like to know. I can make up for going off on you. Have dinner with me in my quarters."

"What makes you think I want to befriend you?" Jessica asked crudely. "A simple apology isn't going to cut it."

"Then what will cut it?" Snape asked decisively. He turned and rested one hand along the back of the bench and gently cupped Jessica's chin with the other. The unexpected, friendly gesture forced Jessica to look him in the eye and answer his question.

"Well," she began. "Maybe you could…" She searched his eyes for the cold, cruelness she saw before, but found only remorse and affection.

Perhaps Dumbledore was right after all.

Snape's face was very still. All of a sudden she couldn't think of anything more she wanted him to do to make up for what he had said. Jessica saw it in his eyes that he truly wanted her to accept his apology. Although she couldn't explain why, Jessica knew she had to forgive him and honour her uncle's request to see more than just the superficial Severus Snape.

Something in his gaze had a way of drawing her attention to him like a moth to the flame. She forgot about how much he had hurt her and then disregarded her demand for another apology. After all, Jessica knew right from the start that he didn't really mean those things he said. He deserved to be forgiven without further ado.

Something forced Jessica to put a hint of a smile on her face and then she started to feel strange, as if she was now seeing him through someone else's eyes. Her expression softened, as did her heart.

Snape's gaze remained fixed on hers. He moved his hand down her throat and across her shoulder, caressing the velvet of her sleeve as he trailed down to her hand. Once her hand was in his, Snape noticed Jessica was slowly closing the small gap between them.

His heart began pounding fiercely. Snape forgot to keep breathing when he realized exactly how close she was going to be to him. He watched Jessica close her eyes and then gently tilt her head before she touched her warm lips to his.

At first, he met the beckoning of her lips with hesitation - hesitation that quickly turned to ecstasy after he realized that _she_ was kissing _him_!

Jessica held her poise for a moment and then stroked her lips once over his. Her lips were softer than he imagined. And when she reached her fingers up to touch his face, Snape could feel his entire cheek numb and tingle with pleasure. It was all too perfect. Jessica's kiss was nothing like he had imagined last night. This kiss was real! Jessica's touch of warmth and feeling was _nothing_ to be compared to the weary imagination of Severus Snape.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four –The Loathsome and the Lovely

Once he remembered to breath, Snape coiled his hands around Jessica's neck. He pulled her deeper into the kiss and combed his fingers into her soft, dark hair. With his thumbs massaging the bare skin behind her ears, Snape let the stroking of his lips match her own and then thoughtlessly tried coaxing her into a deeper, more passionate kiss.

All of a sudden Snape felt a sharp blow just beneath his ribs and Jessica pushed him away from her. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Jessica demanded. She quickly stood and promptly wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. "Are you mad?"

After Jessica took a couple of crooked steps backward, Snape arose with a hand covering his bruising rib and prudently kept on her. "I beg your pardon?" Snape said coldly before throwing his cloak back over his shoulder. "What are you talking about, Jessica?" Snape had a way of twisting his expression into a glower that intimidated even the darkest of wizards.

However, this time Jessica didn't fall for his intimidation. She wasn't going to let his short temper keep her from standing her ground. "You know what I'm talking about!" she insisted. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what, exactly?" Snape asked, each word sounding like it was its own sentence. "And _don't_ say I shouldn't have kissed you," he snarled. He pointed a long, narrow finger at Jessica and took one step closer to her. "_You_ started that all on your own."

Just by looking at the cold, vile look in his eyes, Jessica knew he wasn't fooling with her. It was obvious that Snape wasn't the type to play such games as that. He was a lot of nasty things, but he wasn't that sort of a player.

_That couldn't be!_ Jessica thought to herself. How in the world was it possible that she could kiss _him_? She hated him, didn't she? And not just that…

Jessica took a moment and thought hard. She pressed her lips together and tried to remember what she had done. For some reason, she couldn't remember what she was thinking such a short time ago. It was as if all her senses had been Obliviated just for that moment. She squeezed her hands to her temples and crumbled to the ground. "My god," she cried. "How?"

"Jessica?" Confused by her distress, Snape carefully approached Jessica and helped her up. He sat Jessica down on the bench and saw that she was crying. "I didn't mean to alarm you, Jessica," Snape found himself saying. "I assumed that when you kissed me, you wanted me to…"

Jessica's callously brushed her tears away. "It's not that. You don't understand." The glossy, wet look in her troubled eyes sparkled in the early morning's sun. "I can't kiss anyone. It's impossible."

"Explain it to me then." Snape's demand was firm but compassionate. "How, is it impossible?"

Jessica shook her head. "I can't explain it," she whispered.

"Jessica." Snape's tone was still firm but not nearly as compassionate now.

"No, really. I _can't_ explain it," she said and placed her hand atop his. "I don't know."

Snape looked at her hand as her fingers began stroking his affectionately. He wondered if she even realized she was caressing him, or if it was as absentminded as the kiss had been. Her fingers curled around his hand and Jessica squeezed him tight. Snape didn't budge, for fear that she would let him go.

"When I give anyone a kiss…" she began. "After a kiss… terrible things happen." Jessica turned a cautious eye to the Potions Master as if she were expecting him to accuse her of being batty.

She couldn't have been more wrong. After all the things Snape had witnessed in his life, nothing struck him as batty anymore. "What sort of terrible things?" he questioned.

"Horrible, terrible things," she rephrased. "Look, Professor –"

"Severus," he corrected.

"Severus," the name slipped so melodically from her lips, Snape thought for sure he felt his blood warm. "Perhaps it would be best if Uncle Albus explained it to you, because I really can't. I'm not a Muggle, I'm not a witch… I don't know what I am."

Jessica tried to turn her head away from him. Snape was quick to catch her face in his hand and brought her back to meet his earnest gaze. "You are enchanting," he stated in what was hardly a whisper. "You are intriguing, and I would like to find out why you fascinate me so." He glided his hand down her throat and over her shoulder, enjoying the feel of her smooth, ivory flesh against his fingers.

"I'm not fascinating," she argued. "I'm abnormal, that's what I am. A freak, if you dare. Even Uncle Albus doesn't understand what I am or what I was meant for."

"If you would allow it, I would like to try and understand," Snape told her. "Not only because the Headmaster has requested it of me, but also because I would consider it an honour."

Jessica shook her head. "It's impossible. It would take a lifetime to understand."

Snape shook his head. "I'm a patient man," he said, although, even as he said it, Snape wondered if this mystery concerning Jessica was an exception to the standards he kept in regards to patience. "Your presence here vexes me," he continued. "If the Headmaster wanted me to know why you are at Hogwarts, I would know already. Enlighten me, Jessica."

Jessica sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I want to," she said, "but I can't. I'm not ready."

"Perhaps once you are –" he stopped, thought again of what he wanted to say and then leaned just a little bit closer to her. Unexpectedly, he caught a gentle waft of her perfume and the words completely eluded him. Snape closed his eyes and breathed a deep breath of the sweet aroma. At the same time he fought every temptation he had to touch her again.

And did he ever want to touch her! Her skin was so soft and so warm, Snape wondered if any sex-starved man could resist such a beautiful thing when it was right at his fingertips. It didn't take him very long to realize_ he_ certainly couldn't. Snape's hand quickly found its way to the small of her back, and the other to curb Jessica's face. Snape burned a zealous look into her eyes and wondered how appalled she felt having the bare skin of his cold, clammy hand touch her soft cheek. Although she probably wanted to, Jessica didn't push him away from her, and for that, Snape was grateful. He wanted this moment to last a lot longer than it would and to escalate into something it couldn't.

"I must be going back now," Snape lied. "We'll chat again. Tomorrow, perhaps. You know where to find me, but until you're ready, I suggest you steer clear of me." In that one moment, Snape unknowingly made it clear to Jessica that he would not tolerate any indecisiveness. Until Jessica knew what she wanted, Snape refused to offer his heart and his devotion to another woman who did not want it.

Snape watched Jessica and waited for her to say something. It didn't really matter to him what she said, just as long as she said _something_. He didn't to walk away not knowing at all how she felt.

No words came.

Jessica sat in awkward silence, looking deeply back and forth into his eyes. He looked intimidating and soothing all at the same time. He was so close to her, but Jessica didn't feel the least bit uncomfortable anymore.

With closed eyes, Jessica braced herself for the farewell kiss she believed was coming. She could sense how badly he yearned to feel her kiss once more. The quivering of her bottom lip had gone almost unnoticed as Snape drew closer. He considered it, coming about an inch away from touching his lips to hers before backing away. Now wasn't the time, no matter how badly he wished it could be.

She was so beautiful. Snape was sure he had never seen such a beautiful face before. Thinking that he may never have a chance to do this again, Snape wondered what would happen if he just wrapped his arms around her perfect body and seize her mouth with his own before bestowing upon her the abundance of passionate kisses he was more than capable of giving her. But as much as he wanted to taste the sweetness of her kiss again, Snape wanted to turn and walk away without receiving another harsh blow to the ribs that still ached. He'd had enough of that for one day.

Before he had time to think about what would become of his fantasy, Snape pulled away and started for the castle where he'd confine himself to his quarters with an aged bottle of some extremely potent gin and he'd do what he did best. He'd sulk about the dungeons and curse his fate until he passed out of exhaustion.

Jessica opened her eyes to find herself alone in the garden once again. He'd slipped away without a single sound. He'd done it again. Snape's remarkable talent for sneaking up on and away from her was as befuddling as the kiss that caused him no harm.

Before leaving, Jessica was certain Snape was going to kiss her again. Snape's unexpected disappearance had left Jessica with the profound feeling of… disappointment?

"Why you, Severus Snape?" Jessica whispered to herself and touched her fingers to her lips. Her eyes closed again and Jessica thought back to the moment she could still feel his lips on hers. His kiss was affectionate. Sweet. Passionate. And enjoyable.

It was then that Jessica came to the realization that she _wanted_ him to kiss her again. That morning something about the loathsome, irritable and crude Potions Master had captured not only Jessica's attention, but a piece of her heart as well. She wasn't sure what it was, but there was certainly more magic going to work between the two of them than either of them realized.

Snape didn't see Jessica at all on Monday. He didn't see her on Tuesday either. Wednesday went by, then Thursday and then Friday. Jessica hadn't come. It was Saturday now and the second Quidditch game of the season would soon begin. An entire week had gone by since he had last seen her. Snape was beginning to wonder if he ever would see her again.

Jessica _did_ know she was supposed to come to _him_, didn't she? Once she had time to sort her feelings, she was to come to him and inform him of her decision. Snape had made that perfectly clear, hadn't he?

_Perhaps not_, Snape often found himself thinking as he paced back and forth among his desolate quarters. The only thing he'd made clear was that he didn't want to see her until her decision was made. Maybe she still hadn't decided how she felt about him – or maybe she had and decided that she didn't want to see him again.

Sometimes after nearly losing his mind thinking about her, Snape found himself half way to the Hospital Wing ready to march in and sweep Jessica off her feet. He'd carry her to his chambers where he'd assure her that there was no danger in kissing him, or even making love to him. But then he'd come to his senses and realized he'd only be wasting his time. She'd made up her mind and _this_ is the way it was meant to be. Jessica wanted it this way. She didn't want to see him, she didn't want to talk to him and she certainly didn't want to make love to him.

Snape caught a glimpse of himself in a dusty mirror across the room. He looked at his reflection for a moment and took several long, heavy strides towards it. He pressed the palms of his hands against either side of the frame and bore into his reflection. All he saw was a sallow, malicious face looking back at him.

He was a mess. No man who looked like _that_ deserved a woman like Jessica. She was beauty beyond beauty. She deserved a man who could look at himself and feel proud of what he saw. Snape never cared what he saw when he looked in the mirror. He didn't even know why he had a mirror in his quarters. It had just always been there.

Snape didn't care what anyone thought when they looked upon him. Popularity and sex appeal certainly didn't matter to him. What was important to him right now was…

Jessica.

Even if she did find him attractive, how was the '_epitome of abysmal'_ going to win the heart of this lovely, eligible maiden? After the way he treated her, Snape had to be crazy to think Jessica would ever want to place her heart in his hands. After all, he hadn't given her a reason to feel anything but hatred for him. Nothing he'd done for her was kind, or friendly, or affectionate. Instead he did nothing but insult and rebuke her.

"You're a damn fool!" Snape muttered to his reflection in the mirror.

Jessica easily could have been his. They were so much alike, Snape and Jessica. They were cynical, irate, eager, lonely and isolated. Strangers among those who were just like them.

Although she didn't yet know it, Jessica yielded more power than almost any witch to walk the corridors of Hogwarts in the last century, and yet she had never once held a wand in her hand. Snape, on the other hand, was a profound wizard capable of brewing even the most potent of potions, lifting the most evil curses and restoring normality to the strangest of spells-and-charms-gone-wrong. But when it came to matters of the heart, Snape felt as oblivious and ignorant as a Muggle on a broomstick.

In his younger years he had known passion. A great deal of it too, but none of his reciprocal affairs involved his heart. He'd never been in love before, not really. Not in a mutual sense. No wonder he was such a mess. All his life he had gone without ever knowing love in its deepest form, and now all of a sudden every molecule of his body was craving it. It felt like he'd been cursed with a love spell, yet no counter-spell could spare him.

How was it that a woman whom he knew almost nothing about could do this to him? In only a matter of days she had turned him inside out, penetrated the dark shield surrounding his heart and rendered him vulnerable to the curse of love.

_Damn her!_ He didn't want to fall in love. But it was too late. There was no use denying it. The stubborn love-hating Potions Master of Hogwarts had fallen for the Headmaster's grandniece.

Damn those emerald green eyes! Damn that irresistible smile, the sweet succulent way she kissed, and that flawless, mouth-watering body. And damn the way she made him want her!

Way up at the top of the tower overlooking the Quidditch field, Jessica sat comfortably at the side of her uncle admiring the astounding view of fourteen enthusiastic students racing around in the sky on their broomsticks.

The sun shone brightly through the scatter of fluffy white clouds and warmed the otherwise snowy November morning. There was no breeze, and for that Jessica was thankful. She hated the cold winter season, especially the chilly wind the northern region offered.

Jessica looked again through a pair of binoculars her uncle had given her to see another pair of students racing side by side after the small, twitchy Golden Snitch. Within the next few moments, the game would probably come to an end.

"Your mother played for the Slytherin team during her years at Hogwarts," Dumbledore told Jessica. "She was one of the three Chasers, and a very fine one at that."

Jessica set her binoculars down on her lap and looked curiously at her uncle. "She never told me she was a Quidditch player," she said. "Or that she was a Slytherin for that matter." Jessica looked through her binoculars once more to see both team Seekers still neck and neck. The tail ends of their Quidditch robes were almost all that could be seen as they dashed around in a sharp turn and then headed down and across to the other end of the pitch.

"There are plenty of things your mother wanted to tell you, my dear," Dumbledore said, speaking in a low, grandfatherly voice. "I know she would have loved to tell you all about her years at Hogwarts. She was a top student for all seven years and earned more points for Slytherin than most others."

"I was down in the Slytherin quarter last week," Jessica mentioned. "It's hard to believe that such a creepy place can be a part of something as beautiful as Hogwarts." The child-like look in Dumbledore's blue eyes and the way he chuckled put a smile on Jessica's face. "I mean it," Jessica assured. "It was horrible. And Professor Snape's reluctance to help me get out of there didn't make it feel any friendlier."

The Headmaster's chuckle turned into a conservative laugh and his hand topped gently over Jessica's for a short moment. "Severus was probably quite startled to see you about the dungeons."

Jessica shrugged her shoulders considerably. "I guess you could say that," she said just as she felt the first gust of wind blow her hair across her face. When Jessica reached her fingers up to tuck her hair back behind her ears, she looked up and down the stands packed with professors and wondered why Snape wasn't among them. Again, she was overcome with the feeling of mild disappointment.

"Have you spoken to Severus lately?" Dumbledore asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"No," Jessica said softly. "I haven't seen him. I suppose I was hoping I'd see him here today. He must not be much of a Quidditch fan."

"You're mistaken, dear," Dumbledore said as he adjusted his spectacles and peered over to the tower next to theirs. "Severus is just there." He pointed his long, bony finger in Snape's direction and eagerly helped Jessica lift the binoculars to her eyes.

Dumbledore's lips curled up into a smile invisible to Jessica's scrutiny. He saw the eagerness in her eyes and felt more certain now than ever that his grandniece was bound to be the one who would one day soon crack the shell encompassing the heart of the forlorn Potions Master.

"I see him," Jessica said and focused her binoculars on the sour-faced professor. His grey scarf was wrapped several times around his shoulders and his overcoat was buttoned all the way up to his neck. His eyes often narrowed into slits and his attention seemed more focused on the wizard sitting in front of him that it was on the Quidditch game.

Jessica looked at the young wizard Snape seemed to be casting the evil eye upon and immediately recognized him – or at least the purple turban-like cloth wrapped around his head. She was sure she had seen him before.

"Uncle Albus," Jessica began hesitantly as she leaned over to him. "Who is that in front of Professor Snape? The one wearing purple," she added before pointing in their direction.

"Ah, that's Professor Quirrell," Dumbledore said happily. "The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."

"He's a professor?" Jessica repeated. "Perhaps that's why he looks so familiar. I must have come across him several times in the corridors."

Dumbledore's eyebrows perked knowingly. "It was Professor Quirrell who brought you from your captor to the safety of Hogwarts."


End file.
